Iridescence
by paranoid woman
Summary: COMPLETE. Each person is given an iridescent color. GEN. Chapter 10 out of 10 - "Aurora Borealis" Larry, All colors. Summary: Aurora Borealis is a miracle, the perfect metaphor.
1. Dusty Light

**Title:** Iridiscense, Part 1/10 - Dusty Light  
**Characters:** Colby.  
**Word Count:** 581.  
**Rating:** PG.  
**Warnings:** None.  
**Spoilers:** None.  
**Summary:** This is a secret, nostalgic place of Colby's mind, one that he consciously tries to avoid.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Numb3rs.  
**Betas:** The fantastic twins_m0m and the great Lily G.  
**A/N:** I'm giving every character a color. It's been done before but I wanted to experiment a bit.  
**Color:** White.

**XxX**

**Dusty Light**

Muffins are good.

At the table, he finishes eating one with his cup of coffee – the only decent breakfast he's had this month. Watching TV gets boring. He never does it in the morning, but today is the exception. Not that it's worth it so far, though.

Colby reaches for the remote, but he's still too sleepy, and when he gets up to grab it, he spills the coffee onto his just ironed shirt.

"No, not now," he says when he notices the mess he's made. Coffee has not only ruined the white of his shirt, but also the white of his tablecloth carpet. It looks gross, and the third and last muffin he wants to eat still lies on its plate. He won't be touching it any time soon.

Shaking his head, he takes off his shirt. At least he always wears a tank-top underneath it, in case this happens at the office. God don't let that moment come, though. He couldn't bare David's laugh.

Walking over to the washing machine, he leaves the garment on the chair that's placed beside it. It's too dark but the light switch is too far, so Colby simply opens the little, rounded window by his side.

Fresh air and sunlight slip inside. He takes out the stain remover from the cupboard. It has to work. He puts some liquid over the brown stain and rubs it, seeing how it starts to disappear.

But then something catches his attention, and he stops. His eyes look at the space that surrounds him, and he rediscovers what he's missing for years without noticing.

Dusty light.

Larry once said something about particles that people breathe in and out without knowing. This is definitely what he meant, to Colby's view. There is a magic in those particles, in the way they dance in front of his eyes, in the way they change and seem to be running away when he waves his hand softly in the air.

It's like the old mornings in Idaho, when he sat down at the table to have breakfast and Mama Granger was there to welcome the day with a smile. "You be a good boy, Colby, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am," he responded every time. Dusty light was always there.

Where is that boy today? What has he turned into?

This is a secret, nostalgic place of Colby's mind, one that he consciously tries to avoid. He doesn't want to mess with the past. He just wants to forget.

But that special light is in the room and it brings up all the right questions. It provides sudden revelations.

He looks down at his shirt. The stains always remain. The only thing he can do is learn to live with them and move on. Try not to disappoint anyone again; be the person he is, not telling any more lies.

So Colby throws his shirt into the washing machine, turns it on and leaves. There's nothing he can do but let go.

In the kitchen, he returns to the spilled coffee and the rest of his unfinished breakfast. It is still a mess, but it's better than it could have been. He is better now than the person he was before.

Goodbye to the angel, goodbye to the traitor; welcome the real Colby Granger. He's staying, hopefully, for good.

He sits down, observes it all. His eyes land on his sweet, meaningless reward.

Let the last muffin come to papa; he deserves that much.

**XxX**


	2. Enigma

**Title:** Iridiscense, Part 2/10 - Enigma  
**Characters:** Robin.  
**Word Count:** 329.  
**Rating:** PG.  
**Warnings:** None.  
**Spoilers:** Season 5.  
**Summary:** Her childhood dreams have become true; but so have her fears.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Numb3rs.  
**Betas:** The fantastic twins_m0m and the great Lily G.  
**A/N:** I'm giving every character a color. It's been done before but I wanted to experiment a bit.  
**Color:** Violet.

**XxX**

**Enigma**

She's worked so much to be where she is now.

She's studied hard. She's lost nights reading the right books. She's done what her heart told her to do.

And now, she's the Assistant U.S. Attorney.

Her childhood dreams have become true; but so have her fears.

It's always been obvious to her that she can't bring balance to this world. Good and Evil can't cancel each other. One of them eventually wins.

Overachieving has to mean something. She has to have enough power to turn the balance towards light and vanquish the darkness of violence and death. She knows she's not dealing with innocent children; the men she prosecutes are big fishes and they know how to take revenge of the people they don't like.

There are always risks. Her name is known, her work is on reports all the time, her face sometimes appears on TV. She hates the passivity of not being free someday. Just the idea of having to go into Protective Custody because of a case gets to her nerves. She needs to feel the power of being in control of her own life and being able to put a guy into jail so that he doesn't take any more lives.

Her little successes are recognized, which is great. Yet to her, it's not enough.

She remembers well her parents' efforts to send her to law school, how much they tried to cheer her up when she came home drowning in frustration for things never being fair. They gave everything they had to allow her to achieve her dream.

She still has the old violet book – Nietzsche's book, the one that almost made her drop out of law school. It's a source of energy, of courage. She's come a long way. She can't stop now.

She doesn't know if she'll ever be able to make a difference. To her, this is an enigma.

But like she always says, that won't stop her from trying.

**XxX**


	3. Yellow Lemon Trees

**Title:** _Iridescense_, Part 3/10 - Yellow Lemon Trees  
**Characters:** Megan, OCs.  
**Word Count:** 696.  
**Rating:** PG-13.  
**Warnings:** A bit of domestic violence.  
**Spoilers:** None.  
**Summary:** He's never considered her efforts to please him. He always says "no" to everything that wouldn't make her more like a man.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Numb3rs.  
**Betas:** The fantastic twins_m0m.  
**Color:** Yellow.

**XxX**

**Yellow Lemon Trees**

She's never liked living with him. To her, it's a nightmare. Now, as she opens the front door so she can come into the house even if she knows she can't escape. He's never considered her efforts to please him. He always says "no" to everything that wouldn't make her more like a man. He's controlling, manipulative. But he keeps his agenda, full of social meetings and lies. And he's got good connections – many of which will decide her future…

A sound, a cry, a curse. It's a sign.

Son of a bitch, he's taking advantage again – the kind that is taken on a mother, a woman who doesn't have the strength to fight back.

Megan can't stand it. She's spent the entire week trying to make him stop, but of course, she's too young and she doesn't have the right to be taken into consideration.

"Megan! Come here, right now!" his father's voice calls. He's heard her at the door.

She has to run away.

Maybe her mother decides that it's fine for him to control her life, but Megan won't let him do the same. She owns her every breath and move.

So she breaks out. She walks away from the door and takes a short-cut to her special place. At least this little vacation could provide her a place to hide.

There's too much sun. Almost blinded, she lifts her hands, covers her face and runs faster.

Some of her hairs lighten, become golden as the sun bathes all shapes. This street has lemon trees on both sides… She's picked up the wrong road. She's been here before, collecting memories of the multiple times she's tried to be successful at becoming a run-away.

Shadows playing with the light don't soothe her mind. It's like seeing the real world, it's like forgetting about all the goals others have decided for her. It's like feeling safe, in the middle of a crowd… but a fourteen-year-old shouldn't be doing this.

Yet it's the only way for her to escape the madness, the screams, the harsh words, the complaints, the demands.

She'll never be good enough. His father wants more and more and even more, and she will never be satisfying enough as a woman. She's so sick and tired of trying to become the son he never had, just to see him refuse every intention of her to follow her dreams.

The trees are disappearing from her view. She finds a spot, a little street to the right, but curses when she finds a dead end - an alley with one last big lemon tree. Hearing the voice of the enemy, she hides behind it, even if she knows they won't make her disappear from view. She holds on to her last chance – the chance of him not finding her and pulling her hair. That's the kind of punishment she deserves, he always says.

Breathing hard, her heart is pounding hard from anger and impotence. Yet she manages to look down and wait for the well known outcome.

There he comes, her father to drag her home. But not for long.

Not for long.

XxX

The aftermath of the yellow lemon tree nightmare is one of the things Megan hates the most. This time, she runs one hand over her forehead, finds sweat, and curses.

Looking down, she notices that she's fallen asleep with a criminology book in her hands. On her couch. _Again. _Lifting the book from her lap, something slides out of it, and she catches it in a reflex before it touches the floor.

That something makes her remember what her mind was going through before her eyes decided to rest for a while. A photo from the old times - she and her old man, smiling beside a lemon tree. A neighbor took it; he was passing by when he discovered father and daughter in the middle of a fight, and of course, Mr. Reeves tried to play the perfect, happy family.

The worst part is that this is so common today. She's seen it so many times because of her job. Even today, such lies exist.

But personally, she's conquered them all.

**XxX**


	4. Equilibrium Woods

**Title:**_ Iridescence_, 4/10 - Equilibrium Woods  
**Word Count:** 330.  
**Character:** Ian.  
**Rating:** T.  
**Warnings:** None.  
**Spoilers:** None.  
**Summary:** He breathes in, breathes out. Stops. Closes his eyes. Feels his own soul.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Numb3rs.  
**Beta:** The fantastic twins_m0m.  
**Color:** Green.

**XxX**

**Equilibrium Woods**

The shooting range leaves him too paranoid, too obsessed with danger sometimes.

He doesn't want to even think about bullets, much less about blood. He can't even stand looking at his usual rifle, no matter how much of a best friend it is.

Confused, he needs to take off the stoic mask for some hours and find his equilibrium again. So he checks for hunting spots near L.A.. That's what the woods were made for, after all – to let people make their get-away.

It doesn't take long for him to get there. He never packs much, as he's used to traveling from city to city when duty calls his name. But this is not a decision made because of his responsibilities; this decision was made because he needs to remember what lies behind his daily job.

The wood opens for his view, like it's spreading its beauty for him, guiding his way. He starts walking. His boots almost make no sound.

The atmosphere is wet and windy. Just _perfect_.

There's green everywhere. Fresh air is all around.

He breathes in, breathes out. Stops. Closes his eyes. Feels his own soul.

This is who he is. This is his balance.

The intensity of the moment, the controlled adrenaline, the expectation of a reward.

His eyes open in a reflex.

There are footsteps, not far, and his rifle is loaded and ready for the upcoming assault.

He gets closer to his prey, tenses his lips. He's determined, focused, and he knows it. He never loses in any battlefield – not in the FBI, not in the streets, not here, not anywhere.

He fires his gun and waits for the result.

The deer startles, looks around and runs away. Its athletic figure mixes with the forest, quickly fading away.

This is it. This is the end, all that's needed. One meaningful, harmless victory.

He smiles at the paint mark that claims he's won every battle the job and the stress creates in his heart.

**XxX**


	5. Unpacked

**Title:** _Iridescence_, 5/10 - Unpacked  
**Word Count:** 634.  
**Characters:** Nikki, OMC.  
**Rating:** PG-13.  
**Warnings:** Drug use.  
**Spoilers:** None.  
**Summary:** Some stuff always remains unpacked; it's just so tedious to her to dig into them.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Numb3rs.  
**Betas:** The fantastic twins_m0m and the great lillyg.

**XxX**

**Unpacked**

It's been too long since Nikki's thought about family. It's like the memories are fading away, even if she calls her parents every once in a while. That kind of life – safe, unlimited – is gone.

But she still loves this shirt so much. It is perfect, it would match his eyes so well. If they could see each other again, of course.

As Nikki stares at this particular closed box, she thinks of how much she's done for herself, for her survival. She's moved closer to the FBI headquarters, she's abandoned the last traces of her past.

Some stuff always remains unpacked; it's just so tedious to her to dig into them. Because when she does, the same story comes back, and it's never easy for her to let it go. So she sits down on the floor, leaning her back against the wall, and lets one of her hands caress her hair as she pushes the images away.

She was in the middle of a living hell. She loved him deeply, she would do everything for him. Everything except keeping up with his hunger for living out fantasies that only hurt his body and his soul.

Yet there had to be a way to help him, to guide him out of his addiction. A friendly hand is what he needed, and maybe love would be answer. Maybe he'd see the light when he saw how much he meant to others.

The family had done as much as they could. But finally, when they couldn't fight it anymore, Nikki was the last one to enter the battlefield. She just couldn't leave him.

But one day, after she decided to buy him his birthday gift – the beautiful brown shirt he always talked about – she had found herself speechless at the bathroom door. She'd come home to put a smile on his face, to let him have his party, even if it would be an intimate one, with only one guest.

His damaged image welcomed her beside the sink. He was rolling his eyes, the shock making his body tremble. A used syringe lay on the floor.

Calling 911 and getting to the hospital with him inside an ambulance didn't mean a solution. Not even the recovering process, not even the long talks did.

Addicts didn't just refuse drugs, no matter if they understood that they were killing themselves. Once the substance got to their bodies, their system demanded it to function, to feel joy.

He wasn't happy around anything or anyone anymore. He needed the dope to even give away the tiniest smile.

After watching him, fighting him, understanding him, trying to help him stop, Nikki realized that nothing would work. She went through the same stages endless times – home, drugs, ambulance, hospital, home… drugs.

And eventually, she couldn't take it anymore. But Nikki would never be able to forget the night her brother got that close to death.

Even today, when she remembers his old smiles, his old freshness, and compares them to his darkest periods, she wonders what could have happened if she would have tried harder. The kind of life he'd chosen was dragging her down. But she can't let go of him, not even of his shirt.

A tear falls down her cheek. She knows that he's gone and he'll never come back, but something keeps the things that remind her of him, of her possible mistakes. That brown shirt is in there, but she'll never open it again. She can't unleash the pain because she doesn't know what the consequences could be.

In a way, through the years, she's found the guilt that maybe she should feel. Because regret always means punishment to her.

But that's okay.

Because that's how she copes - by remembering and respecting what she's lost.

**XxX**


	6. Ultramarine

**Title:** _Iridescence_, 6/10 - Ultramarine  
**Word Count:** 395.  
**Characters:** Don.  
**Rating:** K.  
**Warnings:** None.  
**Spoilers:** None.  
**Summary:** The Stockton Rangers turn into a better team. If Don would have stayed….  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Numb3rs.  
**Betas:** The fantastic twins_m0m and the great lillyg.  
**Color:** Blue.

**XxX**

**Ultramarine**

The third beer in front of the TV inevitably screws things up.

The Stockton Rangers turn into a better team.

If Don would have stayed…

Alcohol gets to his brain and he starts to hallucinate. When he's home and safe, he doesn't mind the collateral effects of his drink.

He enjoys seeing himself on TV. He's in the field, wearing the classic ultramarine uniform, giving his all for the guys that will allow him to hit that home-run.

The blue uniform would have suit him well. It would probably be more impressive on first view than the FBI suit.

He holds his lucky bat tight and observes the pitcher's moves. It all happens in slow motion – the way that man steps on the ground to find his energy and speed, the way his arm moves in a circle, the way the ball leaves his hands and flies towards Don.

He hits off the pitcher and runs as fast as his legs allow. He feels adrenaline going through his body, he hears people calling his name.

First base, second base, third base, and suddenly, before the third out, he rushes back home. With a head-first slide, he hits the bag.

A beautiful, _beautiful_ run! The crowd goes wild! He raises his dirty arms in victory as his pals go to congratulate him…

Don grins to himself, laughing, feeling himself touch the fourth base. But as soon as he realizes that his fantasy was only that, he stops.

He sees his gun, his badge on the table. Right beside his feet.

His smile returns to his face. He's got a uniform, after all. The uniform of the State.

Perhaps someday things will be different and he won't get only five minutes to dream. Perhaps he'll earn a few years to live the life he's always wanted.

Even without the people he's lost, even without the clichés a couple of movies have put into his head, even without the need of being in charge. He'd be able to coach a kids' baseball team.

But for now, he's okay. Life hasn't been that hard on him. He doesn't have what he wanted when he was a child, but he keeps the faith. He won't be missing that ultramarine uniform.

He's got another kind of team - the kind that won't disappoint him.

The kind _he_ will never let down.

**XxX**


	7. Prodigal Son

**Title:**_ Iridescence_, 7/10 - Prodigal Son  
**Word Count:** 690.  
**Characters:** Liz, OMCs.  
**Rating:** K.  
**Warnings:** None.  
**Spoilers:** None.  
**Summary:** Connor hasn't mentioned someone else would join them for dinner tonight but then again, her older brother likes surprises.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Numb3rs.  
**Betas:** The fantastic twins_m0m.  
**Previous chapters:** Find them here.  
**Color:** Lilac.

**XxX**

**Prodigal Son**

The restaurant looks fancy. There are gorgeous lights wherever she looks. Nicely dressed people talk in whispers, smile as creamy shades surround them. The atmosphere is calm and peaceful, almost to the point of making every view seem to be a dream. As Liz walks towards her table, she's glad she's looking different tonight – black blouse and skirt, blue high-heels, brown, little bag. Her hair moves as she does, following her rhythm, falling over her shoulders. She feels beautiful right now; with her focus on the job, she doesn't get to feel that way most of the time.

She finds her seat and stops in her tracks. There are flowers on her table – lilac flowers on a table for three. Liz stares at it as she sits down and gets ready for the anxious wait. Connor hasn't mentioned someone else would join them for dinner tonight but then again, her older brother likes surprises.

A caress on her shoulder lets her know he must be here. Turning around, she thinks of getting up from her chair to welcome him; it's been a long time since they'd seen each other since the last time. He works for the State Department, she works for the FBI. It's not like they have all the time in the world, even if family should always be first.

Her eyes barely roam over Connor's almond eyes and she's about to greet him when they land on the next figure. She freezes. This can't be true.

"Jimmy?" she mutters, staring at the blonde guy that has the last name Warner on a criminal record. "Weren't you in jail?"

"Liz…" Connor reaches for her shoulder, but she rejects him.

"You brought me for this and you didn't tell me?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise…"

Jimmy raises his voice. It's different, tougher, more complicated. "I'm sorry, Liz... I didn't want to upset you. We thought that maybe you…" He shook his head. "I'll just leave, don't worry." Immediately, he turns but Liz stops him.

"No, you can stay," she says. "I'm just… I wasn't expecting this, that's all. Please, sit down."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

Soon, the three of them are seated at the table, waiting for their dishes. Jimmy rubs his palms nervously; he mustn't believe that Liz is okay with this, so she assures him, "Jimmy, trust me. I've missed you."

"You know, I wouldn't blame you if you didn't. You two guys, you work for the State. I'm one of the dregs of society or something like that, like a pal next to my cell said."

She shakes her head. "I won't lie to you and tell you that everything's fine. Those years were the worst of my life. I didn't know what was going to happen to you, where they were going to transfer you. I didn't know if you could deal with being in prison."

He lifts his gaze and meets hers. "I'm sorry. For being… hard to handle, especially after dad died."

The memory of her and her family around the table in the old days when there was no sign of real horror that could touch them managed to break her. She looks for Connor's eyes and she finds them. He's serious, worried about her; but as usual, he had a plan.

He lays his hand on the table, proposing the old gesture they all know. "C'mon… Just like when we were kids," he says when Jimmy hesitates. The youngest Warner rubs the back of his head but finally places his hand over the other man's. "Liz?" Connor asks, turning to her.

Silent, she notices that after going back to the past for even one brief moment, she doesn't know which decisions are good and which are bad. She holds her breath but looking around the table, her gut tells her to go for it, to give these men another chance.

She covers her brothers' hands with hers. They're not the happy three kids they used to, but they are together now, they can fix things. And she'll do as much as she can to allow them turn back time.

**XxX**


	8. Heart of Gold

**Title:** Iridescence, 8/10 - Heart of Gold  
**Word Count:** 693.  
**Characters: **David, Claudia, OMC.  
**Rating:** K.  
**Warnings:** None.  
**Spoilers:** 2x12 - The OG.  
**Summary:** Helping others is what helps David save himself.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Numb3rs.  
**Betas:** The fantastic twins_m0m.  
**Color:** Red.

**XxX**

**Heart of Gold**

Helping others is what helps him save himself. Going to the 23rd Street Community Center is exactly what he needs to remember how far he's come and how much he can do for people who need to be shown the way.

Peacefully, he watches kids playing chess, others helping their coaches with their regular tasks to keep the place clean. But as he observes a woman gathering the Autumn leafs with a rake and putting them inside a box, her face catches his attention.

Walking towards her, he says, "Claudia?" and sees her turning at the sound of his voice.

Her smile is always a reason for joy. "Hi! Ah, I was…" She waves her hand as if her appearance here is not important. "I heard that you liked coming here to give this people a hand, so I came one day and met Olivia Rawlings…"

The mention of Olivia's name brings so many memories to David's mind. It's amazing that's been so long since he met the woman in charge of the Community Center and after a few arguments and a case, he decided to join. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. She showed me what you guys do and I thought about helping a bit… It's nice." Claudia looks around and suddenly says, "Tony, here! Could you help me with this?"

When David turns to see who she's talking to, he sees a thirteen-year-old with an angry expression on his face coming to meet them. "Hey, man, how are you doing?"

The kid ignores him and speaks to Claudia. "No way! I ain't doin' nothing here, you get me?"

"But Tony…"

"You take care of this shi…!"

That is too much to bear, so David intervenes. "That's enough!" With that, he gets the kid to look at him. He reminds him so much of people he's met in the past. "That's not the way to talk to a lady. Plus, she hasn't offended you. Show her some respect."

Tony looks away, obviously not wanting to cooperate. It's like going back to the old days when David avoided guys from school so he wouldn't get in trouble with gangs. The Bronx was the kind of neighborhood where one didn't want to rub shoulders with the wrong people.

When the kid starts walking away, David puts a hand on his shoulder. "Hey… What's going on? Is there something you want to talk about, buddy?"

He gets silence; but from the way this little fellow stares at the floor, David knows that something bad has happened to him today. He doesn't push it; he knows how it is. It takes trust for kids to speak up about their worries.

But that doesn't mean Claudia has to take the hit. "Okay, you don't have to tell me. But c'mon, pal… Apologize to the lady."

Taking a deep breath, Tony goes towards Claudia, looks at her in the eyes and mutters, "I'm sorry, miss…"

David gets closer to her, too, and realizes that he's been able to teach a lesson today.

"Apology accepted, young man…" she says, and then she turns to David. "And you? You have a heart of gold." She learns to kiss his cheek before going back to work. He watches her walk away, watches her glance back a couple of times to show him how proud of him she is right now.

On the floor she's stepping there are traces of blood. Red, thick blood that is attached to a story David ignores. But he knows the feeling of being in danger in the streets, or running for his life before the bad guys get him.

It still happens. But to him, it belongs to the past. Family and understanding have been the answer to him.

"Lucky guy," Tony says, grinning, and David almost lets a laugh come out.

"See? Watch and learn, man," he says, running his hand over the kid's head. Finally, Tony goes to grab the bag and helps Claudia take care of the leaves. David watches him smile for a moment, and he can't help smiling, too. "Watch and learn," he repeats, thinking of how powerful a few friendly words can be.

**XxX**


	9. In Between

**Title:** Iridescence, 9/10 - In Between  
**Word Count:** 424.  
**Characters:** Charlie, mention of Don.  
**Rating:** PG.  
**Warnings:** None.  
**Spoilers:** None.  
**Summary:** He places an entire pack of crayons on his desk at CalSci and for a moment, the theory he was working on seems to not mean anything anymore.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Numb3rs.  
**Betas:** The fantastic twins_m0m.  
**Color:** Grey.

**XxX**

**In Between**

Statistics don't lie. The most common favorite color between black and white is the first one. He places an entire pack of crayons on his desk at CalSci and for a moment, the theory he was working on seems to not mean anything anymore.

Don is white, he is black. Charlie doesn't deserve to represent any different color. While his brother does what he wants and takes as many risks as are needed, he remains in the shadows – focused on calculations, flows and symbols that always pull the strings from the background.

Sometimes he feels that he's too scared, that he keeps too many thoughts and desires to himself. He can't say how much he'd like to be like Don. It would be too embarrassing and besides, he has come too far already to suddenly decide to change.

But his only possibility to be closer to a different way of thinking is to leave his ivory tower for a while and work for the FBI. Whenever he can take his intellectual obsessions and bring them down to earth, to make them fit actual criminal patterns, he can tell himself that he is some sort of backup agent, not just a know-it-all whose knowledge has no meaningful purpose.

Even if it's still not enough, it's all he has. It's not about increasing popularity, it's not about getting people to be interested in his book. It's about feeling similar to what Don is and what Don means to the world. Most teaching jobs don't lead to discoveries that can be immediately used to help people, but catching a bad guy in the right moment, before he kills someone or takes something that doesn't belong to him, _that_ makes a difference.

And in the meantime, it helps Charlie and Don to get closer, to become friends more than partners.

When meditation finally reaches its end, Charlie rubs his palms and looks down at the crayons again. Black and white are still opposite colors. Maybe he could turn his thoughts into a practical matter and apply it to Don's latest case…

He reaches down to grab one of the two crayons but stops in his way. Ironically, he lets himself smile and even laughs a bit. But he doesn't pick the one he's been thinking about.

He doesn't need to choose between black and white. Considering what he's done in his life so far, he's more than that. He's not in the field yet. He's not in the shadows anymore. He's fine with being grey – right in between.

**XxX**


	10. Aurora Borealis

**Title:** Iridescence, 10/10 - Aurora Borealis  
**Word Count:** 574.  
**Characters:** Larry, Megan, Don, Charlie, Colby, David, Nikki, Liz, Ian, Robin.  
**Rating:** PG.  
**Warnings:** None.  
**Spoilers:** None.  
**Summary: **Aurora Borealis is a miracle, the perfect metaphor.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Numb3rs.  
**Betas:** The fantastic twins_m0m.  
**Color:** All colors.

**XxX**

**Aurora Borealis**

There are words of amazement. Just listening to the ones that surround him, the ones that are talking behind him, Larry feels their wisdom. They are the people he has learned to know through the years. They've taught him how to live, how to think, even how to love.

They have decided to stay in Charles' house after their second dinner as a "family," a determined structure of components linked by affection, caring and shared history.

There's a phenomenon that explains such reunion - Aurora Borealis. Electrons, nitrogen, oxygen. Every particle affects the next in the darkness of the night. The beauty of the skies is daunting, and because of the company, it's particularly inspiring tonight.

Larry can't stop the ideas connecting inside his head. Even as the man of science he is, his internal dreamer is alive. Metaphors are the way he extrapolates what he sees from what he feels.

Don's telling something to Charles – that their mother used to say the stars were the doors to Heaven. He lays his hand on his brother's shoulder; it's seems that after all the years of seeing each other as strangers, they are finally in the stage of life in which every corner of their beings finds their right place on earth.

To the right, David is talking about his last experience at the Community Center. Beside him, Liz expresses her support, and encourages him to keep going. She states that everyone needs second changes. According to her, people can change, so David should follow his instincts and go for what he thinks is worth it.

A little to the left, Nikki is joking about Colby's outfit. A dark brown-shirt isn't the best choice to match his eyes, she says. Colby just laughs and tells her that he barely had time to wash his clothes; apparently, he's stained all his good shirts. Of course, Nikki doesn't believe him. But beside her, Ian is pouring red wine into cups, teasing her and smiling at the irony of the situation. From time to time, his eyes wander over the way the house trees follow the wind.

Beside the Koi pond, Robin is looking at the sky. Larry has noticed a certain melancholy in her eyes lately. He doesn't know if the fluctuating colors are providing her answers, but the fact that she's holding a violet book tightly is a sign of a relevant process happening within her.

A hand lies on Larry's shoulder. It's Megan's warmth, Megan's perfume. She's agreed to come see him and share this moment. He finds peace in her and in the people who are there with him. This is his place, the one he's supposed to be at right now.

Thoughtful, he looks up and enjoys the shades. This looks so much like the old Horatio phrase. Simply, _Carpe Diem. _Because time goes on and on and it's its job to manage the evolution of every object and organism, including the human race. Time builds, destroys and rebuilds and decides on every matter. For example, on the fact that Larry and his friends converge into one point – this very moment, the one in which their souls connect.

Aurora Borealis is a miracle, the perfect metaphor for a life of adaptation, survival and unknown, final purpose. How it happens is pure physics… pure magic.

All the colors come together. They crash and mix and flow and change.

Just like everything – and everyone – else.

**The End.**

**XxX**

_A/N: Thanks to everyone who read and thanks to everyone who connected. Your feedback meant a lot._


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